Skip to main content

Limestone Way: the mysteries of Mayfield

The walk from Ellastone to Mayfield and back turned out to be longer and more interesting than I had expected. I discovered bullet holes in a church door, a very strange football goal, and an unusual way of generating electricity.


It was the middle of July, and it finally felt like summer. Starting by Ellastone Bridge, I followed the Limestone Way: first a track through the Calwich Abbey estate, then a sharp left to head to the east of Ellastone, with the church ahead forming a scene like a picture postcard.

entrance to Calwich Abbey estate

Ellastone church

I ascended to a ridge of high ground which I would follow all the way to Mayfield. The surrounding countryside folded itself into wooded valleys and sunlit hills. I spotted a few chunks of limestone on the Limestone Way.



Having recently read The Insect Crisis by Oliver Milman, I hoped the fields of long grass and flowers I was walking through were helping the local insect population. I couldn't tell if they counted as traditional hay meadows, but they certainly hadn't been grazed to the ground.


I squeezed through a tight gap between holly bushes and headed down a lane lined with pretty cottages, towards Upper Mayfield. There were chickens, cats, and sheep with big curly horns.


Then I reached Gallowstree Lane, saw a house with its own cemetery, and realised I was aiming for Hanging Bridge - hmm, cheerful place, this! One story is that the bridge got its name after some executions there during Bonnie Prince Charlie's retreat, but the Mayfield Heritage website asserts confidently that it was called Hanging Bridge long before those events.



It now carries the A52 across the River Dove. You can see the pointed arches of the old bridge underneath the rounded arches of the widened version. I crossed the river and took a footpath on the other side towards Clifton. 



I came across a patch of grass with a bench and an information board. I was surprised to discover that this was the former site of Clifton Mill, and the Down'Ards goal for Ashbourne's Shrovetide football. I knew about the chaotic game, played yearly at the start of Lent, but had assumed it was confined to a short length of the high street. Here was a goal, over a mile out of town! Turns out the two goals are three miles apart on the Henmore Brook.


stand in stream and hit ball on millstone

It was a nice spot for lunch, anyway. Then I crossed a small and functional bridge over the Dove to reach a still-existing mill, home of of Mayfield Yarns. I passed the purpose-built workers' houses and followed the road a short way to St John the Baptist Church.




Here Bonnie Prince Charlie popped up again - or at least some of his army, who fired shots at the church's west door. The bullet holes are still there today.



 The next section was a little tedious, traipsing across flat fields. I could tell the river was there, because every other tree had a Private Fishing sign on it, but I couldn't see any water. After a while I climbed a slope and followed an elevated track. That was much better - easy walking and beautiful views.


Calwich Abbey (remains of)

I went past the derelict remains of Calwich Abbey (visited by Handel, apparently) and was soon back at Ellastone Bridge. Since I had a little more time, I crossed the Dove again and took a path which I thought might lead me to Norbury Old Manor. It didn't; but I discovered an Archimedes Screw in the river. Later investigation online told me that it is owned by a company called Dove Renewables, not the National Trust as I had originally assumed.


boundary marker on Ellastone Bridge
 

I'd walked ten miles and it was starting to rain - definitely time to head home. Mayfield and its surroundings had been more interesting than I expected. And I hadn't found all Mayfield's secrets yet, as I was to discover on my next walk.

Ellastone - Mayfield 16 km / 10 miles

15 July 2024

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Trent Valley: the march of the pylons

In the 1980s, the River Trent supplied the cooling water for fifteen coal-fired power stations, each one gobbling up coal from the local mines and quenching its heat with gallons of river water. The area was known as Megawatt Valley . As the 20th century gave way to the 21st, the mines closed, the coal trains stopped running, and the iconic cooling towers, one by one, fell to the ground. The high-voltage electricity lines which connected the stations to the grid are still there, however, and they dominated the walk I did today. The stately silhouettes of pylons stalked across the landscape, carrying fizzing power lines which sliced up the sky. At one point, I was within view of two of the remaining sets of cooling towers. Diving further back into history, I parked by Swarkestone Lock on the Trent & Mersey Canal, walked past St James' Church, and arrived at Swarkestone Bridge, a 14th-century causeway which still, remarkably, carries traffic today. It was famously the southernmos...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Churnet Way: a wonderful walk

The loop from Oakamoor to Froghall and back was one of the most enjoyable walks I've done in a long time. It had a bit of everything: woods, ponds, rivers and railways; steep climbs and sweeping views; an unusual church, an ex-industrial wharf, and, as a final bonus, car parks with toilets. Of course, the sunny weather helped too. I parked in Oakamoor and set off along a quiet lane called Stoney Dale. This is the route of the Churnet Way, which deviates away from the river for a couple of miles. After a while I turned right and climbed up through the woods on a gravelly path, then dropped down to the B5417. a spring in Oakamoor   Crossing the road, I entered Hawksmoor Nature Reserve. It has some fine gateposts commemorating John Richard Beech Masefield, "a great naturalist". I found a photo of the opening of the gateway in 1933; unsurprisingly, the trees have grown a lot since then! A track took me down through the woods to East Wall Farm. Lovely view! Nice duck pond as ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Theo Alexander

The due date was fast approaching, and, having had Toby five weeks early, this pregnancy was feeling like it had dragged on far too long.  On Sunday morning, two days before D-Day, we went to church, wearily confirming to eager enquiries that yes, we were still here, no baby in tow yet.  And then, at 3:30 am on the morning of Monday 10th February, my waters broke and things began to get moving.  Fast. Yes, I know I had to apologise to you ladies who have gone through long-drawn-out labours last time , and I'm afraid I have to do it again.  The change in the midwife's attitude when we got to the hospital was almost comical; she breezed in and put the monitors on and said, "I'll just leave those for a few minutes, then".  Back she came for a proper examination, had a quick feel, and: "OK, we'll get you to the delivery room RIGHT NOW," followed by a mad dash down the corridor in a wheelchair!  Our new little boy was born at 5:16 am. You...
1 comment
Read more